


hum hallelujah

by scotthowls (Know_Your_Paradoxes)



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Arson, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Blood and Injury, Crushes, Damien is Bi and Scott is Pan, Damien is Jealous and Envious of Oz, Graphic Description, I Mean... It's Definitely There But I'm Ace And Can't Write That, Implied Sexual Content, Injury, Injury Recovery, It's Damien. Of course there's arson., M/M, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of crime, Other, Oz is Non-Binary, Pining, Rough Kissing, Scott Is Cute and Damien Can't Deal, Scott has ADHD, Secret Crush, Sloppy Makeouts, Swearing, Teen Romance, They/Them Oz, Tsunderes, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 05:57:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14928482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Know_Your_Paradoxes/pseuds/scotthowls
Summary: Damien is prepared for a lot of things -- murder, arson, going alone to Monster Prom -- but he's not prepared for Scott Howl.





	hum hallelujah

Damien LaVey doesn't GET crushes. He doesn't FEEL emotions. (Unless it's anger. Then, he feels only one emotion and he feels it truly, madly, deeply, constantly. And maybe true love. But only toward his own anger. Which in turn filled him with more anger. Until the point where he was ready to implode at any given moment. He was an atypical high schooler -- most were ready to explode into a mushroom cloud of sheer hormones and unspeakable sexual fluids; he was ready to beat everyone to death with the sheer willpower of his mind and however strong his knuckle bones were.)

So when he first felt the... The Feeling... he didn't recognize what the fuck it was. He was mad at it, at first. He thought it was just some sort of hip new rage kind of thing. And then he realized, no, he didn't feel angry. He felt... happy.

And that just made him even more pissed off, which wasn't really what the entire sentiment was supposed to do, but hey, it was there for a genuine split second when he recognized it, and then twisted it into something spiteful and rude, so it's the thought that counts.

The feeling happened when he was battling Scott in Pokemans Go. After sending out his secret weapon (Frankie Ricardo Martinez-Ortiz, if you must be precise in his Pokeman. Frankie was notorious for his ruthlessness in stealing money from the cash register at his job and slacking off and sleeping behind the counter, and Damien happened to know that Scott's best Pokeman was weak against poor work ethic), Damien looked up to see the look on Scott's face when he saw the battle turn. Just to savor that misery and turn it into impish glee. Like any good demon should.

And then, just when he thought that he was safe, Scott... smiled. Genuinely. As though he didn't know what the hell Damien had just done to fuck over his Emilia Macintosh. As though there wasn't anyone in the world that could ever ruin his mood. As though he were cheerful and happy and alive and everything was going to be fine.

That is when Damien felt... The Feeling.

It felt like fire exploding from every single nerve in his body, turning his stomach into a furnace, sweat beads forming on his forehead, like he was going to die and it didn't matter. But it... felt nice. It felt good. Like... good fire. (Although, considering that Damien's first instinct was always arson, this metaphor might not have been great to start out with when trying to describe the feeling.)

And, just as suddenly as it came, it was gone, and the Pokeman battle continued and Scott put down a Leona Swanson and immediately blocked Frankie from stealing from the cash register due to her past experience as a safe guard for a local museum. Damn that Leona Swanson.

"Haha! You really didn't think I had a Leona? I have 3 of 'em!" Scott beamed, royal blue eyes sparkling with delight. "And they're all sisters. I wonder if I could get them all to guard my stash of bones..." he thought, mouth forming an 'o' shape as he looked upward to the fluorescent cafeteria lights.

Damien saw him, and watching him, after feeling The Feeling, felt... wrong. Like he wasn't supposed to have seen Scott this way. Like Scott stopped existing and a different person with the same exact features took his place. And it was fucking creepy. For a split second, he actually found himself wondering if there was a shapeshifter that took Scott's place as a prank. Or if Polly was possessing Scott's body and just trying to fuck with him. Or both. That would be so fucking metal and so fucking unnecessary.

His eyes trailed across the cafeteria, trying to find an excuse not to keep looking at Scott. Someone. ANYONE. And then his eyes fell onto Oz.

Oz was a quiet sort. They weren't nearly the bold kind of person that Damien particularly found attractive. (Then again, neither was Scott. He was more STUPID than anything.) They were a smart person, sure, and when they DID speak, they had a really impressive way with words, but they rarely used either of their particular skills to their credit during class or otherwise.

Oz was staring at someone too. Maybe spacing off, maybe longing after somebody that they wanted to ask to prom this year... Maybe doing the same thing that Damien was doing and just trying to avoid the gaze of someone who just made them feel a Feeling that didn't feel very good but it actually kinda did and maybe it was good even if it made them confused inside. So Damien followed their gaze, noticing the slight pink luminescent blush on their otherwise dark complexion, before resting his eyes upon the person that Oz was staring at so intently.

Scott Howl. That dashing, dumb, darling motherfucker.

Damien almost crushed his phone in his hands, that's how unexpectedly angry he got when he saw that Oz was looking at Scott like that. And there was no fucking REASON why he should be that angry. Damien didn't have a crush on the bastard, like hell he did! He would openly renounce his demonic ways and take the Lord himself into his heart before he saw the day that he would have a crush on someone as fucking lame as Scott Howl.

Even though Scott had beautiful eyes, and a strong jaw, and some really nice muscles that would be perfect to carry all his gasoline for him when he went out for arsonry, or to punch the living shit out of someone that said that arson wasn't an acceptable solution to life's problems, or to literally wrestle Damien to sleep because that would be the only way he could ever get any goddamn peace and quiet in his life. And he was usually so eager to talk to others, and he was charming as hell, and he wouldn't ask questions when Damien would try and convince him to be an accomplice in crime...

So what if Scott Howl was literally Damien's perfect man? That didn't mean that he had a fucking CRUSH on him! No way in Heaven or Hell or anywhere in between would Damien stoop to falling for someone like that.

Yet here he was, literally seconds away from smashing his entire ass phone, all because the walking concept of fear was looking at Scott in a romantic way from across the cafeteria. This was fucking dumb. This was pointless. Absolute garbage bullshit horse cock fuckcurtain levels of dumbassery.

"Uh... Dames? You uh... You need to counter still."

He snapped out of his rage-induced coma state and looked to Scott. "O-Oh yeah, shit, sorry. Uh..."

And as he scrolled through his Pokemans, the image of Oz longingly gazing at the taller man sitting in front of him flashed on the screen like it was mocking him for everything that he had just went through within the span of like two minutes.

* * *

The second time he felt The Feeling was when he was rehearsing for the school play. Scott was a tree. A literal, goddamn tree. And yet, he still managed to capture Damien's attention during a scene.

He was distracted. Let his guard down. Forgot his fucking lines, the dumbass. Damien would never forgive himself for forgetting his fucking lines when all his character did was essentially yell at people and talk about how he wanted to take over the world, something Damien already talked about all the damn time. His entire character was meant to be a selfish lech that ended up converting to the side of good and helping the heroes by the end to prove his worth and loyalty. He was a fucking badass, and yet here he was, being distracted by the very charming, very hairy tree that was standing in the background, looking straight into the spotlights, more than likely going blind because of his own lack of common sense not to stare at bright lights.

And Scott saved his ass. He whispered the words that Damien had forgotten right in his ear, as Liam de Lioncourt grumbled something about Damien being uncool or something under his breath.

The sound of Scott's voice and the closeness of the two of them sent a shiver down Damien's spine, forcing him to shake a little and reposition himself before continuing with the lines. And then he kept remembering after that, as though nothing had happened, as though he had remembered everything all along.

After finishing his heartfelt monologue about how he wanted to show people that he wasn't a shitty person, he looked back to Scott, who gave him a thumbs up, and then Damien felt The Feeling again, looking at him smiling and encouraging him as he started to exit the stage.

Scott soon followed behind, clapping a hand on his shoulder with a smile. "Dude, you saved yourself up there! You did such a great job!" he cooed, entire face smiling brightly.

Damien shrugged and felt The Feeling start to make his cheeks warm. "I-It wasn't anything. B-But thanks though. For saving my ass, I mean. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have remembered anything and we would've had to have started that scene all over again."

The taller man gave a heartfelt laugh that seemed to echo ever so faintly across the walls of the backstage area. "Nah, man, I just steered you in the right direction. You were already headed there."

The leaner of the two simply laughed a little; empty, placeholder laughter that wasn't trying hard enough to mask the deep insecurity that Damien was suddenly feeling as a result of being this close and this friendly with Scott Howl. He adjusted the helmet on his head to try and cover as much of his blushing as he could as he felt Scott tap him on the shoulder excitedly.

"Ooh! Ooh! Oz is next, Oz is next!" he whispered, his voice rushed and anticipatory.

Damien had to resist the urge to scoff.

As he watched the performance of the (now mustache-clad) Oz, he felt... angry again. This time, even angrier than he had been when he had caught Oz staring at Scott. And Oz wasn't really even trying to make him angry either time. They were just doing what they wanted to do, living their best life, and now, here they were onstage, performing like the muses themselves had descended to give them a (metaphorical) blowie and they didn't even give a single shit that they had completely undermined everything that Damien had just done, with less importance to the story.

About halfway through, Oz started rap battling their character's own fears and insecurities, and the result was so powerful, Damien peeked around the curtains and saw Valerie -- Valerie, the notoriously sociopathic greed machine that sold a USED TAMPON for a quick buck, the Valerie that would try and pickpocket someone every time they stopped by her shop just in case they decided that they didn't want to actually buy anything -- CRYING. Like, actual tears. Tears that would show that she, too, felt feelings. (Maybe not The Feeling, but still. Feelings.)

Scott physically had to vocalize that he was in pain before Damien realized that he was digging his fingernails into Scott's arm out of pure spite and rage. "Sorry man."

But, yet again, like the dumb, naive, cute idiot that he was, Scott just seemed to take it in stride and giggle it off. "No, it's totally cool. I get it. This performance is really gripping. I wish I understood half of the words that they were saying, though. Like... what the heck does 'nobler' mean, Dames?"

This was gonna be a fucking wild three weeks to prom.

Damien had almost managed to tune Scott out, until he heard Scott ask him, "Hey, do you think Oz is kinda cute?"

His entire body shot right up in attention, like a soldier being caught slacking during training. "Why're you askin' me that, dude?"

Scott shrugged (or as much as he could, given the fact that his tree costume was kind of stiff) and said, "I don't know why I asked you. But I think they're kinda cute. They're really smart though. I think I might actually be too dumb to ever try and talk to them..."

This caught the shorter man's attention like a punch in the face. He blinked once, twice, three times before saying, "I doubt that they'll care how smart or dumb you are. You're not dumb, by the way. Not smart, but... not dumb."

He shrugged and pondered what he could do to make sure that Scott was happy. If it meant that he had to set him up with Oz, that would be more than worth it. Just to see this dumb puppy smiling every day and having someone by his side that would make him laugh. Scott was a... half wit, sure. But he was a good person and Damien, despite having meant to be the King of Hell, he had a fucking heart, and he cared about this guy. And if it meant that Damien had to stop hanging around him because he was gonna be disgusted by the PDA, that would be enough.

But it made his stomach churn to think that that was a possibility.

* * *

The third time he felt The Feeling was without Oz anywhere around, while he and Scott were at Scott's place to study for an upcoming test in AP Jumpscares. Damien had been trying his best to use flash cards with Scott, to mixed results. Scott seemed to understand the definitions just fine, but couldn't really match the right terms to them, no matter hard he tried.

And then there was the whole ADHD thing. Scott couldn't really hold attention. Sure, he had a fidget toy AND a chew necklace (in the shape of a bone, no less, what a nerd), but it still took a lot to keep Scott's attention on a singular thing for more than 10 minutes, if that. And it wasn't like he wasn't trying either. Of course Scott was trying.

So, they had been taking a short break, when Scott mentioned Monster Prom, and Damien felt himself starting to get blushy again.

"So, Dames, who do you think you wanna take to Prom?" Scott asked the simple question, innocently enough.

Damien looked at his big, puppy dog eyes, the color of a stormy sea due to the limited light that the curtains in Scott's room allowed, and he... felt like he was melting. Like he was the Wicked Witch of the West. (Shitty anti-Witch propaganda, by the way. He hated the Coven as much as anyone else, but not because they were witches. Because they were buzzkills.) The Feeling just kind of enveloped him in a puddle of Damien-colored goop, reducing all of the words that he could've said into a mess on the floor.

"I don't know. Prom might not even be my thing. But if I do ask anyone, I think it might be uh... Vera. Just as like a friends type of deal."

Scott seemed to perk up a little. "Oh! That's cool, I didn't think about going with anyone to Prom just as friends! I thought it was a romantic night. I guess maybe some people don't like romance though." The corners of his mouth upturned in a subtle smile as he said, "I'm thinking about asking Oz to the Prom. I mean, I haven't hung out with them enough yet to tell if I'm into them or they're into me, but... what do you think?"

Damien shrugged, looking absentmindedly at his textbook. "Didn't you pretty much ask me the same thing yesterday at play practice?" he asked, trying his best not to give away the fact that he was slightly annoyed by the question as a whole. "And I don't know Oz that well either. They're definitely not MY type, but they might be yours. I don't really know what to tell ya, man."

Scott pursed his lips and steepled his fingers, resting his elbows against the table in front of him, looking lost in thought. "Bro, if this whole Oz thing doesn't work out, do you think maybe you could go with me as a back up strategy? I wouldn't wanna go alone. And I wanna go dance."

Damien felt his heartbeat increase, like his heart was trying to break free out of his ribcage and just run wild. "Uh, sure. I'll go with you. But only if the whole Oz thing doesn't go in your favor. But if there's anything that you know, it's how to win. And you're gonna woo the absolute fuck out of that sentient personification of fear itself."

Scott laughed and his entire expression changed to a determined look. "You're right! I'm gonna think about it as a sportsgame! If I just make the right plays, I'll win, and then I'll get Oz to go to the Prom with me. I'll ask Coach about what I should do for my plays tomorrow!"

The rampant misunderstanding on Scott's part caused Damien to almost drop his phone from where he was playing Pokemans Go underneath the table, but after realizing that Scott would more than likely just forget about that, he had to make sure to hide the fond smile on his face by making an excuse that his entire face was cold and needed to be hidden by his jacket.

* * *

Week 2 was uneventful for the first couple of days. It was usually hang out with whoever would want to hang out with him, usually Vera, Polly, or Scott, and then go home. Sometimes practice his makeovers on any available corpses or skeletons.

Thursday, however, was a fucking ride and a half.

First of all, Scott had seemed particularly chipper that day. He met Damien in the hallway and started talking about how he and Oz had spent some time making a flag for a kingdom that apparently he ruled? (Damien had never heard of this before then, some wild shit happened between Week One and Thursday Week Two apparently. Although he had heard Vera mention that Scott was getting in over his head, although that was just a common thing that he always did.) And they got so passionate about the art that they had ended up shirtless.

And the rage set in again, and Damien almost felt like telling Scott off right then and there in the hall, like he was some sort of uncivilized brute of a man. (Okay, he was kind of uncivilized. And some would say brutish. And, Damien was a man.)

But before he had the chance to fuck everything up, Aaravi apparently took notice and decided to do the honors.

"PREPARE TO DIE!" she screamed, from above them, crouched atop the lockers and wielding a crossbow. She let out a loud cackle, aiming the arrow in her bow right at Damien. "TASTE HOLY WATER, DOUCHEBAG!"

He had no idea how to react, so he just closed his eyes. Death was going to come soon, and it was gonna be sweet release from the torture of feeling The Feeling every time he looked at Scott Howl, which was all the time considering that the two of them were very close friends and were also the only two people in school that played Pokemans Go. And also Scott was the only person that was willing to do whatever crazy scheme Damien asked him to, even if he didn't know all (or any) of the details.

Yet it never came. And he opened his eyes to find Aaravi gone from atop the lockers, running down the hall, laughing maniacally as she went, and... Scott, lying on the ground with an arrow in his shoulder.

Damien panicked first. "WHAT THE FUCK!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!" he started yelling, grabbing Scott and trying to hoist him up as best he could so that he could at least lean on Damien as he walked. Scott felt heavy -- Damien had always assumed that he was going to be heavy, since he was muscular and almost a good three-quarters of a foot taller than him -- but that didn't stop the demon.

"S-Scott, can you walk with me to get you somewhere so I can help you?!" he asked, voice cracking at random intervals due to the sheer terror he felt deep within his soul.

Scott nodded, arm reaching towards the arrow, but Damien grabbed the arm and started desperately trying to bring it back down to his side so that he didn't do anything rash. "Just come along with me. We're headed to the bathrooms so I can get some fuckin' bandages until I can get some stitches done."

He started walking, slowly as to make sure that Scott could follow him, and the two hoddled out of the school and towards the bathrooms outside.

After what felt like forever, the two of them managed to make their way into the bathrooms, and Scott started to kneel down at the doorway in front of the sinks. "D-Don't do that shit, Scott, you're scaring me man!"

Scott's head was down and his muscles in his affected arm were shaking. "H-Hey, did I at least look cool taking the arrow?"

Damien raced to kneel down in front of Scott to help him, and laughed nervously. "H-How should I know?! My eyes were closed the whole damn time, I was trying to ignore the fact that I thought I was gonna die!" He looked at the arrow and tried assessing how deep it was into the skin.

"Dang it, I really thought that I was gonna look cool." Scott's chuckling was weak, and for the first time, it felt... like heartbreak. Damien's heart just kind of snapped in half hearing Scott sound so... dull. "But I'll have a scar there that'll look really cool, too, right? And like Coach says, what doesn't kill you makes you-"

Damien cut him off by saying, "I think you need to take off your shirt, dude."

Scott's eyes went wide, showing just how bright blue they could be when underneath the cool fluorescent lights of the bathroom, and he sighed. "I-I guess. But... I don't think I can move my arm."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," Damien responded, a small laugh escaping his lips as he started to unbutton the flannel shirt that Scott was wearing. Scott fumbled with the buttons as well, trying his best to help as much as he could, but Damien shooed his hand away.

Finally, he stopped resisting and let Damien do the work, and Damien started carefully ripping the cloth away from where it stuck through the skin via the arrow. His hands knew how to be gentle, despite him rarely ever using them to do anything that required delicate hands. He supposed that maybe it had to do with him being a hairstylist and a make up artist, but he wasn't sure what kind of magic he was conjuring from the depths of Hell to help Scott.

"D-Does touching near it hurt?" he asked, noticing Scott wince when Damien touched closer to the arrow in order to remove the fabric. The answer was a simple nod, and Damien took in a deep breath before slowing down.

He had to admit, despite how shitty and bloody the circumstances were, he was kind of glad that he got to see Scott shirtless. He was still just as hairy as the rest of him was, but anyone could tell all the chiseled features underneath the hair. He was very clearly stacked, but that was probably because of all the sports. (Damien made a mental note to thank whoever invented sports when he went back to Hell.) His abs were at least an 8-pack, but Damien didn't find himself even bothering to count them, since he was busy trying to make sure that Scott didn't bleed out in the bathroom of the fucking high school.

The fabric slowly unraveled and fell to the floor, leaving just a tiny patch surrounding the arrow and exposing Scott's skin and muscles to the chill of the air, leaving goosebumps on his skin as Damien fluttered his hands around to see if there was any approach that could result in the least pain when he pulled the arrow out. His hand involuntarily found itself working down his chest until Scott let out a grunt of pain, and Damien then held onto the painful spot.

Scott let out a howl of pain, but Damien reassured him, "Listen, man. It's either you focus on the pain right there, or you focus on the pain that's gonna happen when I take the arrow out. I think I know which one you'd rather pay attention to." The werewolf, with tears in his big blue eyes, simply gave a tiny nod and put his good arm on Damien's shoulder.

The arrow didn't leave as big a wound as it looked like it had. Apparently Aaravi's arrowheads were pretty narrow. Damien found himself rushing to the wall where he THOUGHT the First Aid was kept... but it turned out that only tampons and pads were being sold there. He let out a huge sigh as he rummaged through his pockets for a quarter, buying a tampon, and proceeding back to Scott.

"Okay, so there's no First Aid in here. You'd think that's a violation of some shit or another, but whatever. I got a tampon. It... might fit in the hole? And I'll figure out a way to help you heal or get stitched up tonight." Damien unwrapped the tampon and took off the protective plastic.

There was genuine fear in Scott's eyes, but Damien put his hand on his unwounded shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Please. Trust me, man."

Scott took in a gulp and nodded. "O-Okay, okay, I trust you bro! Just do it!"

Surprisingly, Scott didn't actually yell that loud when the tampon went in.

* * *

It was about a class period later, and the two of them were still recovering from the shock and adrenaline. Damien had used Scott's flannel as a makeshift bandage to hold everything in place until Scott could find a way to heal or at least get stitched up a little.

Their breathing was still staggered and full of fear and uncertainty, and they were still sitting on the bathroom floor. Damien's legs found themselves entangled in Scott's, and Scott was looking at Damien with wide eyes.

"God, wh... what the fuck were you thinking, taking a literal ARROW for me, man?!" he asked. "You could've gotten yourself KILLED, and now you're probably not gonna be able to play sports until that heals!"

He was overwhelmed with everything that he was feeling. He still knew that The Feeling was there, and it was back with a vengeance. There was fear, a hint of excitement, legit rage, and sadness there too. "Scott, you're so fucking stupid..." he said, shaking his head and putting his hair back from his face, wiping the sweat from his forehead and trying to regulate his breaths. "Y-You saved my fuckin' life..."

Scott nodded and said, with a sincerity that Damien hadn't heard from anyone in a while, "Well duh. Why would I let you get hurt? You're my best friend, bro."

Damien looked down between his legs at the floor, with the arrow and small droplets of Scott on the ground in between the two of them, with only one impulse running through his mind, trying to weigh the pros and cons of acting on it at that time. Damien felt like he was gonna explode, and now he understood why Oz cared about Scott.

And he understood that The Feeling was a crush.

Time seemed to speed up. One second, Damien and Scott had a respectable distance between each other, and the next, Damien had reached himself forward, resting on all fours to kiss Scott. One of Damien's hands found the arrow and tossed it aside so that he could scoot his legs forward to get even closer to Scott, the adrenaline still racing through his veins.

Scott seemed not to resist, bringing his untouched arm to Damien's waist as the demon's hand rested itself grabbing Scott's chin, pulling him closer, begging to be right in front of him, connected at the lips. Damien's legs managed to find themselves in a position where he was essentially sitting on Scott's lap, maybe even straddling him, and Scott's hands were both now on his waist. The skin between Damien's t-shirt and his pants felt electric with Scott's touch, and Damien found himself clashing against Scott's lips, a wave of hormones and adrenaline and ecstasy crashing over him.

His tongue searched desperately for Scott to let it in, and Scott didn't even try to put up a defense, his hands reaching upward underneath the demon's shirt, Damien arching his back in response to the touch. His hands, in return, began to explore the untouched skin of the werewolf, and Scott hummed happily in return as his strong hands pulled Damien even closer, to where their chests were touching each other's.

The two of them broke apart for air, but not after Damien bit Scott's lower lip, giving a satisfied smirk as he looked at him. His eyes were closed, lips still puckered, savoring the moment. Damien had to admit, as hot as he was normally, this was the most attractive that he had ever seen him.

Damien couldn't help but let out a breathy, low chuckle, and Scott's eyes fluttered open as he asked, "W-What? What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. It's just... this is not what I imagined was gonna be happening today. I mean, the shooting thing. I expected the whole 'getting made out with' thing, but not you." He paused his own train of thought to press a chaste kiss against Scott's lips, hands cupping his face, being gentle for once, savoring every second. When he pulled away, he continued, "I mean, I'm not sure what this means for the whole you and Oz thing, but I've been wanting this for... god, I can't even remember. Like, the first time I felt this way was just last week but clearly I had to have liked you before then, right? This kind of hot make out sesh doesn't just happen after a week. It takes at least a month for the relationship to escalate to 'considering rawing each other on the bathroom floor of your high school', if not two-"

His words were cut off by the clash of Scott's lips against his again, rough like before, and his fingertips dancing up and down his spine. Damien retaliated by lowering his hands to just above Scott's pants, hands hovering over his waist, teasing him. Scott whined as his eyebrows furrowed and he began to pull Damien's shirt up over his head. The shorter monster hated having to let go of Scott's hips, but reluctantly put his arms up so that Scott could remove his shirt. Scott's hands began to reach for his neck, and then down his chest, resting at his ribs, holding him as Damien returned focus to Scott's waist.

Scott's voice was faint, humming happily against Damien's lips, and his hands traveled lower and lower, until he was grabbing at Damien's ass. Damien couldn't help but groan a little in response to the touch, and his hands involuntarily latched themselves to pull down Scott's sweats. Scott gasped a little but accepted, shaking his legs as much as he could without stirring up his wound.

The demon smirked as he felt Scott right against him, and Scott clumsily undid Damien's belt as he chided, "Is that a squirt gun full of holy water in your underwear or are you just happy to see me?"

Scott didn't even seem to care about the words coming out of Damien's mouth as he finally took off Damien's belt and fumbled with his fly. Damien let out a sigh, all of his nerve endings singing in harmony as Scott tugged his jeans down his legs. "I want you so fucking bad, Scott," he whimpered, whispering into Scott's ear. Scott's tail wagged at this, telling the demon that he had said something right.

Damien gently leaned forward as he kissed Scott, making it so that the two of them were lying down on the floor, Damien on top of Scott. His lips traveled their way down his skin, kissing his neck. He nibbled on pieces of skin, and Scott let out coos and moans to indicate where worked best for him. His lips touched Damien's earlobe and bit, and it sent a rush of fire throughout all of Damien's body, tingling afterward. Damien pulled back from his neck and chuckled down at the werewolf. "You're a fuckin' tease, aren't ya?"

There was no answer from the burlier man, instead connecting his lips to Damien's again, the rest of the world blurring into nothing as it was just the two of them.

* * *

"So uh... are you still planning on going to Prom with Oz?"

Scott shrugged, looking down at Damien as he rested his head on his chest. "I don't think so. I mean, I think you just gave a pretty good reason to take you just now. Also we had sex."

The bluntness of the statement caused Damien to sputter out a laugh. "Yes, yes we did. But uh... I'll understand if you still like Oz and want to go to prom with them." He let out a sigh and traced random shapes across Scott's pecs. "I'll be fine with whatever you decide, because I like you, and I want you to be happy."

The werewolf's beard scratched against Damien's horn. "I think I'm happy. I think I'll be happy with you or Oz, honestly. But you're a good kisser. And I don't know how well Oz kisses at all. So I think you did a good job?"

"Glad to know I have the Howl Seal of Approval." Damien chuckled and patted Scott's chest gently to make sure not to hurt his wound, then got up, grabbing the clothes that he had flung across the bathroom floor (his AND Scott's, it was a very effective method to make sure that neither of their clothes got lost) and started getting dressed. He dropped Scott's clothes right next to him before he started getting dressed.

After he finished getting his clothes on, he helped Scott get to his feet and then started helping him get into his clothes. As he buttoned the rest of Scott's flannel, he looked up at him and reached his arms behind his neck as much as he could, standing on his tiptoes just to reach the werewolf's lips to plant a final kiss.

Damien wiped the dirt and dust off his jeans and t-shirt as Scott adjusted his hair to make sure he didn't look like a complete mess to go into class for the rest of the day, and before Scott opened the bathroom door, Damien said, "Hey. Uh... tell me whatever you decide. Because if you pick me, I wanna match with what you're wearing.

"And I want to match with what you won't be wearing later on in the night, too."


End file.
